


As Long as It is Cruel

by ridgeline



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood and Gore, Bro Showdown Duel Went Wrong, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Elf read other people's memory through tasting their flesh, Flesh eating, M/M, Rated For Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-08
Updated: 2020-01-08
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:21:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22147099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ridgeline/pseuds/ridgeline
Summary: The smell of blood and guts spread in the air, leaving a thick and sweet taste in Iorveth's mouth. It's a dizzy and empty feeling. He waited a bit more, then delved his finger into Roche's wound.
Relationships: Iorveth/Vernon Roche
Kudos: 36





	As Long as It is Cruel

**Author's Note:**

> So the Divinity: Original Sin II did a thing to me. I was shocked to learn that the elves in Divinity were _"regain health and gain insight into the life of the deceased through consuming their body parts"_ at first. But after that, my Sebillie's inventory was stacked with body parts - oh hey, free drugs. This story is pretty much based on this setting. 
> 
> Huge thx for my beta Pi and Yeyi.

The endgame is quick, quiet and fatal. Iorveth dodged to his left side, ducked Roche's next blow. Roche lost his balance but his sword was still in the air. Iorveth drew back a bit, slashed his blade from below and split Roche's chest, cutting through the soft flesh until the blade stuck in the bone. Roche suddenly stopped all the motions, as if he's been frozen. A strange look flashed through Roche's face. His eyes squinted like he found something extremely annoying. Iorveth watched Roche gone pale, then pulled his sword out.

First, a few drops, then a stream of blood oozed out of the crack on Roche's chest. Roche glared down at his wound, lips parted slightly, but didn't make a sound. 

Then he fell to the ground.

Iorveth wiped his sword on his sleeve, then crouched down. The forest fell silent. On the ground, Roche was lying in a pool of his own blood. He almost reached towards the end, deep dark bloodstain spread on his chest. Roche was trembling, breathing rapidly. A wet, pained sound escaped from his throat.

Other than that, he's still reminded silent.

Iorveth kept waiting, until the last light ran out of Roche's blank eyes. After that, there's nothing left.

The smell of blood and guts spread in the air, leaving a thick and sweet taste in Iorveth's mouth. It's a dizzy and empty feeling. He waited a bit more, then delved his finger into Roche's wound.

Roche's body was still warm.

The blood's almost drained. Through the damaged muscles and broken bones, Iorveth reached Roche's intact heart. He fished out his pocket knife, cut off the red and blue veins that still entangled on the organs. When it's all done, Iorveth took out the heart, held it in his palms. Lukewarm blood dripped off from his fingertips. Iorveth turned his head, staring at Roche's blank face. Roche's eyes were still open, staring at Iorveth as if he was in some deep confusion.

Iorveth stared back, then reached out. He wiped off the bloodstain on Roche's jaw, until it was clean again.

Then he did what he needed to do.

The first bite was the richest. Roche's heart was hard, chewy, and juicy. Brass-like taste spread in Iorveth's mouth, lingered on his tongue. Acid rushed to his throat, he held it back and took another bite. The smell and texture of raw meat took over all his senses, too sweet, too thick. Overwhelming. He was shaking, waiting for it.

Then it came.

Memories, thoughts, and feelings flashed through Iorveth's body. Roche's life developed in his head; the horror of a child, the fear of a man; the brutes of a murder, the anger of a soldier, and the inquietude of a commander; the love and respect a man, who used to had nothing, held for a dead king; the endless regrets and emptiness. Finally, Iorveth understood the man.

There is no place for a pitied enemy in Vernon Roche's life.

The anger swelled up in Iorveth's body, like a river that roared with fire. But there's still something he can take from Roche.

"I killed your king, and you couldn't do a thing about it," Said Iorveth, used the back of his hand to wiped off the Roche's blood on his mouth, "Now I killed you, too."

There's no one to answer him.

"I have a part of you now," Iorveth continued, but more like muttering to himself, "And I will take everything from you."

Iorveth finished Roche's heart, then rolled the corpse to the side and peeled off Roche's shirt. It's all blood-soaked and damaged, but there's nothing that can't be fixed. Iorveth would add it to his collection, wears it under his armors. He ripped off Roche's bloodied Blue Stripes Badge from his jacket too. After the loot, Iorveth decided he's gonna left Roche's corpse here, and release the rumors to the northern. Pretty soon, Roche's men will find him, and when they do, maybe there's still something left. They'd figure he killed Roche and gutted him, nothing more.

And everyone will know that he won.

Iorveth stared at Roche for one last time. Roche's face stayed in pristine, the hard lines softened, dried blood smeared across his pale cheeks. From this view, he looked vulnerable. Roche's dead eyes glared back at Iorveth, but it's blank, empty, covered with a thin blue film. Like voids, like any other dead human.

In the end, Iorveth understand. But he still doesn't know why this matters.

_You can't get rid of me, I can't get rid of you._ Thought Iorveth. _The last one of the rules of engagement._

"I don't care." He said. His own voice rang hollow to his ears.

There's nothing left to do. Iorveth turned to the path in the forest, off to find his commandos.

FIN


End file.
